


Felicity 1

by AvengersCompound (emilyevanston)



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Hints of it anyway, Reader Has Powers, Reader-Insert, Sakaar (Marvel), Sexual Slavery, Slavery, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-26 17:37:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18287060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emilyevanston/pseuds/AvengersCompound
Summary: Everyone has their role on Sakaar, if they like it or not.





	Felicity 1

You had known drinking with Brunnhilde was a mistake.  You’d seen her in action.  She drank most days after all.  She didn’t let you in on much, but no one comes to Sakaar without loss and hers seem to run deep to her core.  Her life was a series of distractions filled with ways to pay for those distractions.  She trained, she collected the scrap, she bet on the fights, she drank.  She drank a lot.  More than most men five times her size.  Nothing numbed pain like booze.

When that failed there was you.

Brunnhilde didn’t use her real name very often.  On Sakaar the only names that were important were the ones given to you by the Grandmaster.  If he favored you, you might get to use your own.  It was rare but it happened from time to time.   He took them from you, because names had power.  That didn’t stop other people from using them with each other though.  He could try and take your identity.  Break you down so you were nothing but Courtesan 087 or Fighter 698 or junker 043.  He couldn’t stop other’s calling you by your real name though, and many in private used them.  It was the only time you had an identity.

Not for Brunnhilde.  She used Scrapper 142.  She wore it like she wore her armor.  It protected her from being hurt in a way no blade ever could.

She allowed the Hulk to call her Angry girl.  He was probably the closest thing she had to a friend, so his pet name snuck in.  Giving her a little more personality.  Something new she could lose.  It still wasn’t her exactly.   Just a small aspect.  No one here got all of her.

No one except you.

When Brunnhilde came to you it was at her most raw.  It was when her old life started to bleed through.

Today had been one of those days.  She’d come in distressed and already halfway to being extremely drunk.

“I need you,”  She said as she’d almost fallen through your door.

Just that and it was enough.  Brunnhilde had come to see you and you wouldn’t let her be alone on Sakaar when she was so vulnerable.

Only now you were plastered.  She was holding you up as you staggered along with her.  “Wait… wait… I’ll carry you.”  She said.

“No… no… you can’t…”   You slurred.  It was in vain.  By the time you said can’t, you were cradled in her arms and giggling uncontrollably.

She carried you to your chambers.  Hers were stark and often littered with garbage.  Yours, on the other hand, were warm and welcoming.  She had her role on Sakaar.  You had yours and yours meant that people needed to feel comfortable when they came to see you.

“Let’s take a bath.”  She said as the doors slid closed behind you.

“Let me down and I’ll start it up, Brunnhilde.”  You said, cradling her jaw and kissing her cheek.

She closed her eyes and something in her softened.  Scrapper 142 was slipping away and Brunnhilde was taking over again.

She set you to your feet and you went to you large gold tub and began running the water.   You added some scented oils to it, to help her relax more.   She needed that most of all.

“How often does he come here?”  Brunnhilde asked, as he fingers brushed over the sheer curtains that hang around your bed.

“He who?”  You asked, beginning to undress.

“You know who I’m talking about.”  She snapped.

You recoiled a little.  The role you played on Sakaar made people react in different ways.  Some remained detached during the process.  Not wanting to connect just wanting to let go.  Others wanted the connection most but it made them jealous that they weren’t the only ones who got it.  Brunnhilde only cared that you had a lack of agency.  That you saw who you were told to see and your own feelings didn’t come into the decision making process.  Her fury about it only bubbled out when it was Brunhilde you were talking to, but it was a fury.  Not just about your slavery.  It was about everyone’s and her life now and the things she had lost.

“Less now he has the shapeshifter.  He’s definitely into his new plaything.”  You said, coming over to her.  “I’m sure when his interest wanes he’ll start returning.”

She grimaced and as you started helping her off with her armor she cupped your jaw and caressed your cheek with your thumb.  “I hate thinking about his hands on you.”

“Then don’t think about it.”  You said.  “Let’s bathe.  I am so drunk that I’m not even sure I can do this properly.  It might have to wait until the morning.”

She frowned and let you undress her.  You carefully laid out her armor and led her into the tub.   Brunnhilde liked to be the big spoon, so you lay against her, listening to the sound of her heartbeat.

“You remind me of her,”  She said as she started relaxing in the tub.

“Of who?”  You asked.

“My … she and I… before…”  She stuttered.

You reached behind you and stroked your fingers over her cheek.  “Do you want to remember or forget?”

She shook her head.  “She was so strong and so selfless.  It was always about other people over herself.  It should have been me that died.  It should have been me.”

You turned and sat up on your knees.  “She sounds amazing.”  You said, leaning in and ghosting your lips up her neck.  “Why do you say she’s like me?”

“It’s never about you.”  She said.  “Just about having other people cope with this hellscape.  Even the man who has trapped us in it.  What about you?  Who takes care of you?”

“We all have our roles to play.”  You said and kissed her.

She pulled you down against her and pushed her thigh up against your pussy.  You rocked against it, the water splashing up the side of the tub.  You ran your hands down her form, cupping her breasts and squeezing them gently.  She pushed up against your hands and rocked against your thigh.

“Please.  Please. I can’t do this.”  She pleaded with you.

You kissed her throat.  The pain was radiating from her.  Drunk as you both were and as badly as she felt, it was going to hurt.  “Okay,”  You said, running your hands through her hair.  “Okay, Brunnhilde.  Relax and let it happen.”

You brought your fingers to her clit and began rubbing it in small circles as you rocked against her leg.  You could feel her release coming and your eyes began to glow a deep purple as you fed of it.   Like the coil that was winding inside her was pulling on something in you.  You moved your hand faster and pulled a nipple into your mouth.  “Please,”  She moaned as she bucked up against you.

“Relax, let it happen,”  You purred.  “It’ll be over soon.”

You kept moving your hand and letting her grind against your thigh.  The water splashed in the bath as she bucked under you.  Her body seized up suddenly and she came and with her orgasm came a rush of emotions and memories and the feeling of trying to dull them with alcohol.  It was like being hit.  You reeled back from her and scrambled out of the tub, running to the sink and throwing up.

“I’m sorry,”  She said, her voice sounding numb and slightly hollow, even as she panted.

You wiped your mouth and shook your head.  “It is my role.”

“It isn’t fair to you.  You are so good, and I am weak.”  She stepped out of the water and wrapped herself in a towel.  You turned to face her, but your legs were weak and they gave out under you.

She wrapped you in a towel and carried you to bed.

“Don’t feel guilty.  This place crushes you.  We have to survive somehow.”  You said.  “I am just honored that you let me help you.  To see that part of you.  When you were leader of the Valkyrie.  Most here are nothing.”

She shook her head.  “Please don’t, I’ll remember sooner and then I’ll need to do this again.”

You caressed her jaw and leaned up and kissed her.  She did not return it.  Why would she?  She was no longer Brunnhilde.  Just Scrapper 142.  People came to you to get what they needed.  For many it was hope.  Or their memories of their family.  Some it was just the rush of pleasure that with you was amped up like a hit with powerful drugs.  Brunnhilde liked to forget.  She used alcohol to do it most of the time, but you were stronger.

“Goodbye, Felicity 1,”  She said, kissing your forehead and going to redress.

You smiled sadly.  Felicity 1 was your role.  You had now filled it.  “Goodbye, Scrapper 142.  I hope your pleasure sustains you.”


End file.
